


Greek fire

by Icarus_Flew



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Cocaine, Consensual Somnophilia, Dom/sub, Drugged Sex, Dubious Consent, Kink, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Poor George, Recreational Drug Use, Somnophilia, alex might or might not be immortal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-24
Updated: 2020-08-24
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:14:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26090215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Icarus_Flew/pseuds/Icarus_Flew
Summary: Alexander Hamilton is a spark and he will light you up, and you'll love burning
Relationships: Alexander Hamilton/Benjamin Tallmadge, Alexander Hamilton/George Washington, Alexander Hamilton/Gilbert du Motier Marquis de Lafayette, John André/Alexander Hamilton
Comments: 4
Kudos: 31





	Greek fire

**Author's Note:**

  * For [OverlovingPen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/OverlovingPen/gifts).



> Uh yeah. Gifted to overlovingpen bc she is great.

George Washington smiles sweetly as he steps through the door. Martha, dear sweet Martha, who he is always going to appreciate but never love, no matter how many expensive gifts he buys her or how many times she comforts him through his rages.

George Washington smiles as he steps to the office, his employees greeting him back with their too bright smiles, boring and same, all corporate brainwashed. They don’t really have spirit anymore, well, they don’t really have anything anymore besides their work. Enough to earn a living, never enough to actually spend it on the stuff they love. 

George Washington smiles as he politely does a line of coke, two girls on his lap, like it’s polite at the private meetings of rich business men. He honest to god would never pick the girls himself, too blonde and smiling too bright and, well, female. And not him. Never him. It has been ages since coke actually made him feel something, since any drug really made him feel something. How could it, when he has experienced so much better?

George Washington does not smile when he steps into the dark apartment where the boy is already laying on the bed, wearing the silk panties George bought for him,a rope laying next to him for George to use, watching the tv George bought for him, on the bed with a horse hair mattress George bought for him. 

The boy has cost him thousands but he knows that it’s pocket change compared to what some men spend on the boy. Knows that young Andre regularly spills half he earns for clothes for the boy. Knows that Tallmadge buys the boy tickets for every opening broadway show. Knows that Lafayette has taken the boy to France and back just for dinner. Knows that the boy does not need to live in a cheap apartment when there are men willing to buy him mansions in exchange for his affection but does so anyway, because there is a lot less anonymity in a mansion.  
He also knows that he is going to start spending the same amounts of money to impress him soon, lest he wants Hamilton to get bored of him and find another man he is more interested in. 

Hamilton.

What an ordinary name to such strange entity.  
Alexander did not look strange. He had dark hair, tan skin and a body to die for. All beautiful, combined with the eyes you couldn’t look away from, but nothing unordinary amongst young men.  
He was different, though.  
He was charming, you could fall for him without knowing really a single thing about him. He was different, in the way he walked as if the rest of the world was already bowing at his feet and the way he smiled.

He was different, in the way he sounded when he was choking and he was different in the way he could be hit and degraded and forced into a mattress and yet his grin would make you feel out of control, as if you could never reach a certain part to truly make him yours. He was different, in the way George could drag him on his cock, forcing him to bounce on it til his thighs were hurting and yet he would grin and ask for more. He was different, in the way he’d get into a drug haze until he couldn’t walk straight and beg for George to fuck him like that, to bend him over and hurt him and George would do it without thinking twice, without even caring about his own pleasure, just whether he was good enough for Hamilton. 

He was different when George took him once more when he was sleeping. It was really the only time he could fuck Hamilton… like that. Focusing on his own pleasure, while appreciating how innocent Hamilton looked like that. Mouth slightly open, soft, clear skin and unable to stop anything. Of course, he had asked for permission to do such things but it still felt so wrong each time he did it and it hurt, not the boy, he was careful to not hurt him so he could do it again, even though Hamilton probably would have loved being hurt like that but it hurt himself. He blocked out the guilt, like he blocked out the rest of the guilt associated with one Alexander  
Hamilton.

Alexander was different in the way he ignited a Greek fire that would never stop burning under your skin and the only way you’d get even the slightest bit of relief was pretending that you have him. Not actually having him, that was impossible but a game of pretend could relieve your pain for a second. And by god, the burning was worth it, or at least so thought George Washington.


End file.
